Daisuke leaned against the railing, making himself as comfortable as possible as he waited for Takeru and Hikari-chan to finish their school conseil meeting and join him for day of video games and American chicken wings.
The sixteen year old boy looked exactly his age: a pair of goggles holding back a mass of spiky auburn hair, said auburn hair dyed purple at the ends, a pair baggy jeans with pockets and zippers pocketing and zippering places that had never been pocketed or zippered before, a loose white button down tshirt, a pair of headphones that rocked with the latest in JPop tunes, and, lastly, a messenger bag decorated with hand made buttons and keychains of Digimon.
He looked like a regular teenage street punk. Daisuke was pleased with that; he wanted to be a rebel without being radical, to stand out without being obsene. To those who didn't know him thoughts and insults like "troublemaker," "immature," and "smartaleck" were brought to mind when observing him, but to his friends and family his dress and body posture made him even more cute.
The sixteen year old boy looked exactly his age: a pair of goggles holding back a mass of spiky auburn hair, said auburn hair dyed purple at the ends, a pair baggy jeans with pockets and zippers pocketing and zippering places that had never been pocketed or zippered before, a loose white button down tshirt, a pair of headphones that rocked with the latest in JPop tunes, and, lastly, a messenger bag decorated with hand made buttons and keychains of Digimon.
He looked like a regular teenage street punk. Daisuke was pleased with that; he wanted to be a rebel without being radical, to stand out without being obsene. To those who didn't know him thoughts and insults like "troublemaker," "immature," and "smartaleck" were brought to mind when observing him, but to his friends and family his dress and body posture made him even more cute.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-25 08:49 pm (UTC)